


Hungry Like the Wolf

by gethbecomesher



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dom Solas, F/M, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 17:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3455477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gethbecomesher/pseuds/gethbecomesher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From Astrakhan's prompt from the r/solasmancers Secret Santa fic party: Solas's wolfish spirit is starting to consume him again, affecting his mind, affecting the way he acts towards Lavellan. AS KINKY AS POSSIBLE. GO.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hungry Like the Wolf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [astrakhan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrakhan/gifts).



Solas paced like a caged animal in the confines of his study. The tower was empty, the day was over, and everyone was finding their recreation within the walls of Skyhold. Everyone, that was, except him. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides with every step, the muscles in his jaw twitched anxiously. Not even the Fade had offered him any reassurance in the past few weeks. Where he was used to finding comfort and understanding, now he only found shadows of the past that he would just as soon wipe away.

The anchor was gaining power, growing stronger, and so was he. The anchor that had once been a part of him was now one with another: the Inquisitor. How very apt, he thought with grim amusement. The Inquisitor, a wisp of a dalish girl who had commanded power of her own as well as ancient secrets he believed to be long lost in the tradition of these modern elves. She had earned his curiosity first, having stumbled upon the anchor and yet having the strength of will to use it. It was her will that drove her and those around her, made the weak strong and brought justice to where there was none. It was her compassion which tempered that will and brought a subtlety to her actions, making her wise as well as strong. It was all of her who claimed his interest, his lust, and finally, his love. It was this that frightened him most of all. 

He had known that his power would return in time. He had suspected that the strength of the anchor would have an effect on him. What he did not anticipate was the confusion its return would bring. He was Solas now, he had clung to that identity so thoroughly that he actually believed it sometimes. It was the name he had chosen as a reminder of his mistakes and shame. His companions, his friends had called him by it and accepted him as he was, the way he could never accept himself. His lover whispered, moaned, and wailed his name by turns. He had begun to like hearing that name, but when she spoke it, he would not have had any other. Yet when the wolf called, he began to feel like his old self again: cruel, arrogant, powerful. Old magic trickled through his veins, soon to give way to a flood, he knew. He hated the feral pleasure that brought him.

Was his will not strong enough to keep the identity he had built rather than the one he had left behind? Was his power so wrapped up in his past that he could not reclaim one without the other? These were the questions that tortured his mind day and night, that kept him isolated in his study and meditations as the wolf prowled the edges of his thoughts. His friends trusted him. He could not let the wolf reclaim him, not now. He shook his head violently at the creeping realization that even now he suppressed urges he thought he had long since overcome. He was paranoid that the others could see his hackles raising when danger approached, that they could hear the low growls in his throat when he became angry. He felt his old familiar power settling back into his body and he flexed his magic with a strength he had all but forgotten. For him to wield such power - no one would expect it. He would not be able to explain it if anyone were to ask. When he was alone, he would test himself, measure what strength he had in and out of the Fade. He was alienating himself and everyone around him, he knew, but he just needed to -

A soft knock issued from the heavy wooden door that separated his study from the main hall. The door opened slowly, almost timidly, and in stepped Sulahn’nehn Lavellan. Solas watched her approach him. She used caution as if she thought he was going to snap at her, or perhaps that was merely his perception. Her fire-kissed hair was piled atop her head in a messy bun and her cheeks were flushed and glowing. The sweet smell of brandy mingled with her usual heady fragrance. The mischievous smile that touched her lips called out to the very heart of him. It was the wolf who responded.

“Hello,” he said, his voice a husky growl. Her smile deepened at this, dimpling her cheek, and it took all the strength of his will to remain where he stood and not roughly claim those parted lips. If he gave in now, he was not certain he could restrain the wolf after. He coughed, clearing his throat and his mind. He needed to make his excuses. If she stayed - “Da’len, I must apologize. I am in the middle of - some delicate experiments.” 

“I can think of other things you could be in the middle of,” she purred, closing the distance between them with a few slow, graceful steps. Fire shot through his veins as she trailed her slim fingers over the coarse weave of his tunic from his shoulders to his waist. Thoughts of grabbing those slender wrists and pinning them tightly behind her as he bent her over his desk flashed in his mind. He turned roughly away from her before her hands could travel any further south. His cock was already straining against the laces of his breeches and they both knew it.

“Not now, vhenan,” he said, more forcefully than he meant it to sound. Hurt and anger flashed in her eyes and she slammed a hand down on his desk in frustration, sending loose scraps of parchment flying to the floor.

“Then when, Solas? How long has it been since we were last together? More than a week? Why have you been avoiding me?” she asked, demanding. He simply couldn’t meet her eyes. He knew what he would find there would only exacerbate his guilt. 

“I am not, I - I must attend to my work, vhenan, please,” he said. His pleading tone made her arch a delicate brow. 

“Have it your way,” she said. Her tone was tough, overcompensating. She was hurt and he hated that he couldn’t explain himself. Once he regained grasp on his power, he would feel comfortable being intimate with her again. At the moment, his grasp could barely be described as tenuous. “I’ll be at the tavern, should you change your mind.” She looked pointedly at his bulging crotch. “Good luck with that,” she said, turned on her heel, and left. 

 

Hours passed and Solas lay on the couch in his rotunda in the half-trance he used for short, waking jaunts into the Fade. He called and re-called his power, attempting to restrain it and measuring just how much he could do, all the while resisting the wolf’s taunts. Thoughts of Sulahn’nehn teased him mercilessly. He would finally achieve concentration, and the memory of the scent of her arousal would waft over him like a warm breeze. He would attempt to cast complex, ancient spells when suddenly the image of her naked and underneath him in the throes of passion would hit him like a brick. He was making no progress. Solas woke himself from his trance, stretching at the edge of the sofa, and the wolf laughed his smug victory. 

He raked his hands over his face. He had to go to her, if only just to see her. If he couldn’t give her the pleasure of intimacy at the moment, at least he could acquiesce to give her company in the tavern. He had successfully dodged every invitation for drinks by everyone over the last few weeks in favor of studying the phenomenon of his own magical power, and he figured that if he made an appearance for one night, he could get everyone off his back long enough to get some real answers. At least, that’s what he told himself.

The wolf was edging in on his consciousness, he knew. He could control it at this point; he could push it back if he started to feel himself losing control. If he did not start now, then when? It was all a matter of ancient memory, after all. He could handle one evening away from his study.

 

Herald’s Rest was as bustling as it ever was. As soon as he stepped through the door, the warm, boozy, smoky atmosphere settled around him like a cloud. The sounds of laughter and friendly conversation eased some of the stress from his mind. Or at least it did, until he realized that some of those conversations halted as soon as he entered the tavern. His ear twitched at the sound of Sulahn’nehn’s lilting laughter. He followed the sound of it upstairs, grinning to himself at the thought of being the one who sent her into such fits of delight. The smile died on his lips as soon as he reached the top of the stairs. 

The second floor of the tavern was empty of all but two people. Sulahn’nehn sat straddling Warden Blackwall on one of the wooden chairs. He leaned back, observing her sensual dance as she swayed to the ambient plucking of the bard’s lute from downstairs. Blackwall stiffened as he heard footsteps coming up the stairs and he cleared his throat loudly when he observed it was Solas who ascended.

Sulahn’nehn turned her head slowly to Solas, meeting his firey gaze with a challenging smirk. She slid off Blackwall’s lap slowly, maintaining contact between her ass and his crotch for an agonizing stretch of time. Blackwall had the decency to look ashamed, but not Sulahn’nehn. Her long red hair had been unpinned and tumbled luxuriously down her back. Her shirt was unbuttoned to just below her breast band; her hand moved briefly to close her shirt, but then she thought the better of it. She stood staring defiantly at Solas, the look on her face all but declaring that if he wasn’t going to entertain her, she would take matters into her own hands.

The arrangement of the cards on the low table indicated that there had been a game of Diamondback, and the large pile of coin near Blackwall indicated that he had been faring quite well. 

“You grace us with your presence at last,” she said. She winked at Blackwall as if enjoying a private joke. Solas felt the rumble of a growl in the back of his throat and inhaled deeply. So she was punishing him for keeping his distance. He could see how she could reason that out. Perhaps he even deserved it.

No, he thought savagely. This is her attempt at humiliating him. She was his. She knew it, Blackwall knew it, everyone in the tavern knew it. That’s why he heard the hush among the patrons when he entered. Perhaps she needed reminding. Perhaps they all did. He felt a surge of magic at his palm and clenched a fist tightly around it. Blackwall noticed.

“I’m - going to get another drink,” he said. “Downstairs.”

“Oh, but I hadn’t finished my dance yet, Warden! I lost,” Sulahn’nehn pouted, turning to Solas in explanation. “I ran out of coin, so I promised a dance instead.”

“I would hate to interrupt the man’s due,” said Solas. The dangerous edge to his voice was apparent to everyone. Blackwall averted his eyes and stood rapidly. Sulahn’nehn sensuously ran her fingers down the Warden’s arm, her eyes boring into Solas’. He held her gaze steadily, unblinking. Who would break first, she would be wondering. The wolf laughed darkly in the corners of his mind. It would not be him. 

“I should go,” said Blackwall. He left his winnings on the table and thudded abruptly down the stairs.

“If you insist,” said Solas after the Warden had gone, never breaking eye contact with Sulahn’nehn. She smirked and looked around. The bar downstairs was still very well attended, but they stood alone on the balcony.

“I thought your work had you absorbed for the evening. I didn’t expect you to show up,” she said, shrugging as nonchalantly as she could. He moved toward her, and noticed that she took a step back. There was something uneasy in her expression. Guilt, perhaps? That wouldn’t do, her guilt was not what he wanted.

“That much is obvious,” he said. He clasped his hands behind his back, his long fingers curling into claws. “Tell me, do you play Diamondback here often?” He stepped to the side, around the low table. She side-stepped in the opposite direction. They were circling each other. He bared his teeth in a savage grin. Her uneasy expression turned into anger as she heard the accusation in his words.

“Do you presume to dictate who I spend my time with?” she asked, a biting edge to her words. She stopped moving around the table, standing her ground. Solas drew close to her, his body inches from hers, his face towering over her own, forcing her to look up to meet his gaze or back down. He knew better than to think she would ever back down. He didn’t bother to suppress the growl that formed deep in his throat.

“I would never do such a thing,” he said. 

“Then what is this,” she snapped at him, running her eyes over his aggressive stance. “I didn’t take you for the jealous type.” With both hands, she pushed hard against his chest. She moved him only slightly. Her eyes widened in alarm as he roughly grabbed both her wrists in his hands.

“Is this not what you wanted? You have my attention, da’len. What would you do with it?” He took her wrists and shoved them behind her, grasping them both in one vice-like hand. His other traveled slowly up her body, over her breasts, to grip the point of her chin, holding it in place. She did not look away, but he could sense a titillating nervousness in her. Her chest heaved against him, her eyes narrowed as she stared up into his. 

“What’s gotten into you?” she breathed. She tested his grip on her hands behind her back and he tightened his grasp, making her gasp and wince. She tried to hide the small smile in the corners of her mouth, but it was too late. He released her chin, but she remained stubbornly locked on his face, challenging him. His lips curled back in a wolfish grin and he roughly shoved his hand down the front of her breeches. She exhaled sharply, stifling a moan as his long fingers explored and dipped into her folds, teasing at her entrance and ghosting agonizingly softly over her clit. He withdrew his hand, marveling at the slick wetness that covered his fingers. 

“Is this for me or him?” he asked, squeezing her wrists together in punctuation. She squirmed in his grasp, panting ever so slightly. He licked her arousal off the tips of his fingers, savoring it for a moment as if it were a fine wine. He took advantage of her parted lips and inserted one long finger into her mouth. She sucked hard on its length, glaring at him in defiance of his unspoken accusation. Fire flared in her eyes as she swirled her tongue around the tip of his finger as he withdrew it. 

Downstairs, Maryden started playing a lively rendition of “Sera Was Never” and the young elf’s raucous laughter floated up to them. Sulahn’nehn’s eyes widened as if she had forgotten that they were still in public. Solas smirked cruelly and wiped her saliva off his fingers on her tunic. He ran his hands over her breasts again and suddenly pinched the hard nub of her nipple viciously through the thin fabric. She stopped herself from crying out, lest she be heard from downstairs. Solas nodded his satisfaction; they had an understanding. “Answer the question,” he ordered. “Your cunt is dripping wet. Your smallclothes are soaked,” he tisked. “Is it for me,” he rolled her nipple between his fingers, “or is it for him?” He pinched hard again. 

“It’s for you,” she rasped through gritted teeth. 

“Address me as ‘hahren’ and try again,” he instructed. Her eyebrows raised in slight surprise. With Solas, she was accustomed to “lethallin” ever since their relationship had become comfortable. She hadn’t called him “hahren” since they were first acquainted. He saw that she took notice. Good. He didn’t feel like Solas at the moment. It wouldn’t do for her to treat him as such.

“It’s for you, hahren,” she said, spitting the last word in his face. He wedged a knee between her legs and felt her grind her hips against his thigh. He sneered at her soft whimper of disappointment when he removed it. Not yet, his expression said to her. He turned his head, checking that the coast was clear before walking forward into her, forcing her to back up until her ass met the edge of a table against the wall. 

“Shall I remind you why?” he whispered. His lips brushed against her ear. Suddenly, he turned her roughly around, manhandling her as he had never done before, and bent her over the table. The air rushed from her lungs in surprise. He yanked her breeches down to her knees, effectively immobilizing her legs. He pulled her smallclothes so hard they tore away from her body and she gasped again, turning her face to him in shock. 

“Solas!” she whispered harshly. He arched a brow at her in a mockery of his usual expression of polite interest.

“Are we shy of public spectacle all of a sudden?” he asked. He threaded one strong arm through both of hers, pinning her to the table. His other hand caressed her sex, smearing her lubrication over the heat of her entrance. She did not try to stifle her moan. “We must be quiet, da’len.” He took her torn smallclothes and wadded them up, shoving them between her lips. She stretched her mouth to accept them and Solas growled dangerously at her muted sounds of pleasure, freeing his cock from the confines of his breeches. 

He wound his free hand around the length of her firey hair and pulled hard as he slammed himself into her. The table knocked against the wall and drowned out the sound of her muffled cry and his low, feral snarl. He pressed her into the table, squeezing her breasts against the hard surface from the weight of him on top of her. She felt his breath hot at the back of her neck as he drove himself into her again and again. 

His body’s every motion wrote upon her flesh that this was not an act of love. This was possession in its purest form. She belonged to him. He rubbed his scent over his body with every thrust. She was his. She arched her back, urging him to go deeper. He was hers. He was a man never possessed, and yet here he was, suddenly feeling the need to prove his ownership to the woman who had claimed him. 

He sank his teeth into the curve of her neck as he came, and sank his body on top of hers. She moaned in protest, bucking her hips against the cock that was still inside her. He chuckled darkly. “Do you think you deserve pleasure at my hand, da’len?” She moaned behind the cloth in her mouth. He removed it slowly, shushing her as he did so. “Ask me for it.”

“Please, Solas,” she whispered. He pulled her head up by her hair so her face met his. “Please, hahren,” she winced. He reached down to brush a few teasing strokes against her clit. “Please,” she breathed, her voice like a prayer. “I’m yours, I’m yours.” 

Solas traced a glyph over her clit. It was ancient magic, and the wolf howled wickedly as he looked through Solas’ eyes at the pretty elf girl. She didn’t know how true her words were. She was his. She whimpered beneath his hands and it made him squeeze her arms tighter. He set off the glyph and she came hard, her cunt rippling around him in wave after wave. He swallowed her scream with a harsh kiss, keeping her under him until she was done. 

At last, he straightened, pulling himself back together. Sulahn’nehn rolled over, looking at him as if she had never seen him properly before. There was a tentative smile on her lips as she pulled up her breeches with shaking hands. 

The wolf did not struggle to retreat as Solas righted himself. He felt his power, he saw what he had done. Sulahn’nehn’s wide eyes stared into his, dilated with arousal. Her full lips slick and parted, still panting slightly. She looked around, making sure they were still the only occupants of the tavern’s balcony. They were. He knew they were.

“I must return to my work, da’len,” he said. The look of dark amusement in his eyes brought a grin to her lips. “Please see that I am not disturbed.” She watched him turn and walk down the stairs into the crowded tavern. She went to the rail to watch him wind his way through the patrons, and she saw him look up at her and offer the slightest wink before he walked out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to go hide forever now, bye.


End file.
